


Family (The Patrol Pizza Party Remix)

by navaan



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bat Family, Batfamily Shenanigans, Comfort Food, Families of Choice, Family Bonding, Gen, Growing Up Together, Remix, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-09-26 14:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20390845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: With Dick becoming Robin things change for Batman. Over the years some things stay the same for family.





	Family (The Patrol Pizza Party Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FleetSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Patrol Pizza Party](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16995969) by [FleetSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow). 

> I had so much fun reading all your DC stories! I really hope you like this remix. ♥
> 
> Thank you so much for betaing this, Lore! You are the best!

From above the dark staircase, the portrait that showed Thomas and Martha Wayne, hands resting on the small shoulders of their son, looked down onto the proceedings in the entrance hall.

“Going out right away, sir?” Alfred asked calmly when Bruce strode through the door, “back” from a party he’d only briefly visited to give the gossip rags a reason to conjure some outrageous exploits to pin on him.

“Time for patrol,” he said gruffly, not up for a discussion.

Any remark Alfred would have liked to add was cut short by the sound of running feet. With a cheerful laugh, Dick slid down the banister and landed on his feet in a studied and graceful arc right beneath the portrait, one flight of stairs above them. “Are we going?” He was balancing on his tiptoes, never still for long.

Alfred arched an eyebrow at Bruce and not the boy — a sure sign that he didn’t mind Dick’s athletic show of youthful unrest as much as he was taking issue with the role model Bruce was providing. “Master Dick has been waiting for your return,” Alfred deadpanned.

“I can see that.” Bruce tried not to smile. Instead, he made his way up the stairs. “We’re going out, yes. Come on. We're later than usual.”

The words were unnecessary. In his impatience, Dick was already a few steps ahead of him on the way to the cave’s secret entrance.

“There’s a lunchbox on the sideboard. Don't forget it,” Alfred noted and turned on his heels to make his way back to the kitchen.

Slipping into his more intimidating Bat Voice, Bruce told him: “This is a patrol, not a picnic.”

“And that’s a growing boy you took under your wing there, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, effectively getting the last word in and closing the discussion.

Bruce looked after him with a frown until Dick’s face appeared in the doorway that led to the library, peeking around the corner without backtracking completely: “Coming? Crime won’t stop itself without us!”

“This is no game, Dick,” he reminded the boy.

Downstairs, in the cave, he made sure to snatch the lunch box before they went out.

He watched Robin wolf down a sandwich while they were on the lookout for tonight’s target, and humored him by eating one of Alfred’s famous chocolate cookies.

Of course, this wouldn’t become a regular occurrence.

Patrol was serious business after all, and Gotham rarely allowed them to let their guard down. Batman could not afford to indulge often, and Robin would have to learn that lesson soon.

* * *

“Pizza?” Robin suggested, and Batgirl gave him a long, ponderous look.

They two of them had spent the last hour on a rooftop overlooking Gotham harbor.

“What would Batman say?” she asked back. “Food on patrol?”

“Stay focused,” Robin imitated his Bat voice so perfectly she had to chuckle. Haughtily, Robin added: “He never says no to hot coffee, though.”

Batgirl shrugged, but after her stomach growled so loud that Robin laughed at her in turn, she admitted: “Pizza sounds nice. How do you get it with masks though?”

It was as good a moment to swoop down and relieve them of their duties as any. Silently, Batman landed on the rooftop, felt pride rise in his chest when Robin turned on his heels immediately and took a defensive position.

“Batman,” Batgirl squeaked, startled, then caught herself, meeting him head on as she usually did.

“You can go,” he told Robin and then nodded at her in a silent greeting.

“Go?” Robin’s face fell.

“Food,” Batman suggested and nodded in Batgirl's direction again, then added without his voice or expression changing: “I never say no to hot coffee.”

It took Robin a whole second to realize what he meant. Perhaps Alfred was right, and he had been too strict with Dick recently. But as Alfred liked to point out, Dick had become his partner — more than just a boy in a flashy cape but a detective in his own right. Batman didn’t want to teach either of them bad habits, but with all the darkness he saw at Batman’s side every other night in Gotham, it seemed a small liberty to allow the hungry teenagers some food tonight.

After all, he wasn’t going to tell the teens that Superman had already stopped the expected shipment out on the open sea hours ago and there would be no danger arriving at Gotham harbor tonight.

* * *

He watched his newest Robin jump up to be beside Nightwing with a few paces. “You brought pizza!” Tim piped up.

“Returning the favor,” Dick said and handed over the box smelling of melted cheese and too much fat. Turning in Batman’s direction, Dick explained: “Robin dropped in on me with food in Bludhaven last week. And the week before.”

"You're leaving out Alfred's homemade muffins the week before that," Tim chimed in.

“Ah,” Batman acknowledged and kept his expression as unaffected as always. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know about the patrols Tim and Dick occasionally went on together when Batman needed not Robin for the day and he was free to roam on his own, or how Dick turned them into training sessions for the benefit of his successor.

He didn't mind.

Jason and Dick had rarely spent time together, and Bruce had never stopped wondering how things could have been different if Jason had learned from Dick.

* * *

Damian crouched beside Dick on the edge of the rooftop. He often sought his older brother’s side when he grew impatient — as if the man’s relaxed attitude calmed his nerves. His son was the brashest Robin yet and for a short time he had fought by Dick’s side when Nightwing had put away the blue stripes to become Batman in Bruce’s absence. They still made a good team, even just watching the street below on patrol night as Nightwing and Robin.

“Can’t they hurry up?” Damian asked and narrowed his eyes when Dick laughed softly.

“It’s hardly a matter of life and death,” Batman said softly.

“Or at least they usually stop arguing in time to not let us starve.” Dick grinned.

Across the comms, Red Hood and Red Robin were arguing about toppings to get for their patrol pizza. It had been going on for a while.

“This is insufferable, Father. Starving is no death for the son of Batman.”

“Most unbecoming,” Batman said and threw Nightwing a warning look as his oldest son tried to bite down a chuckle. Damian often missed the finer nuances of sarcasm, but he hated being laughed at. “As is impatience,” Batman added.

“It is their fault for bickering,” Damian complained and then said into his commlink: “Batman commands you hurry.”

“Robin,” Batman warned.

But Dick was laughing loud enough to be heard now.

“This is your fault. You should have taught them discipline,” the boy complained. “They are aggravating. _All_ of them.”

“I did my best. You see how Nightwing turned out,” Batman said and gave Dick his sternest look, knowing full well it would only make him laugh harder. The former boy wonder had grown up to be his own man, not easily cowed even by Batman himself. It filled Bruce with pride — when he wasn't being laughed at.

“I’m sure that’s your way of acknowledging my strength of character. After all, I turned out perfectly.” Dick winked at Damian, obvious even through his Kevlar mask.

“They have all learned bad habits,” Robin said with narrowed eyes. “But maybe Nightwing can be taught. In the field he's not too bad. There is hope. He just gets annoying when he's not kept busy.”

“Aww, little bird, that’s the highest praise coming from you,” Dick chirped and ruffled Damian’s hair affectionately.

Damian growled, but let it happen. Obviously he wasn't yet ready to admit he enjoyed the affection.

Finally, Red Robin swooped down onto the roof beside Red Hood, the smell of hot pizza having announced their arrival long before.

Jason and Tim were, of course, still bickering.

They didn’t stop once, not even while they were stuffing their faces with pizza, until their little bonding time was interrupted by the Bat-signal.

Batman didn't mind. It was always good to see Jason engage with his brothers.

* * *

“Explain to me again,” Stephanie demanded, reaching for a slice of pizza from one of the three boxes that were sitting on the roof between them, “how this has become a thing. Not that I’m complaining.”

“It’s not a thing,” Batman objected decisively.

Damian, always quick to disagree with Stephanie — in and out of her Spoiler costume — looked across at where she was sitting cross-legged beside Orphan, who was quietly munching away at her own slice of vegetarian pizza, and said: “It’s a bad habit.”

“But delicious,” Dick suggested with his usual half-amused Nightwing expression and winked at Bruce.

Even Tim and Jason were quiet for once, neither bickering or arguing with Damian. It was rare, these moments of calm they found scattered between crime-fighting, but Bruce had learned to cherish every single one of them.

Patrol was serious business.

But family was important too.


End file.
